


Solace in Strangeness

by Shierusowl



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Gen, I have feels for this man, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, I'm sorry this exists, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Second Person, Short One Shot, Very Short one shot, forgive me for this length, so many feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-17 04:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9304922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shierusowl/pseuds/Shierusowl
Summary: Your thoughts on Dante as you watch him enter a bar





	

You sit in a bar, virgin drink in hand, staring at the door. You wonder to yourself, “Will he come in tonight?” 

You chuckle quietly to yourself as you get your answer. He waltzes in and sits down, ordering tomato juice, his favorite. His deceivingly angelic face turns down at the quick-coming denial, and you can’t help but giggle, gaining strange looks from everyone but him. Jack Daniel’s is what he orders in place of the red juice. Predictable.

But, you can’t help but notice how nobody “sees” his obvious healing wounds, the many fine, faint scars littering his bare chest. Yet everyone knows they’re there. They have to know, for everyone, even you, knows how he got them. Everyone knows that he got them from the thousands of demons he’s killed over the years. Possibly some from his brother. His twin who fell into hell. Everyone knows that he should be dead, if he were fully human, that he should have died for their sake, multiple times. Yet, you realize, he’s never gotten a simple “thanks” for saving everyone’s pathetic lives.

You know, again, like everyone else, that this man is strange, that he’s not fully human. You can tell by his appearance. A too-perfect face, too-blue eyes, too-white-for-his-age hair, too-durable body, too-fast healing, are what make up this red-jacket-wearing man, this hybrid of demon and human. A mutt, if you will, protecting everyone everyday. A man with too many scars. He’s strange, but so are you.

But, why? Why are you strange?

Is it because you see? Because you care? Because every night you silently thank him? Maybe it’s because you walk over and sit next to him, greeting him with a nod of your head. Could it be because you can “see” his scars? The ones on the outside and inside.   
You can’t help but think, “Why isn’t he ignoring me?” as he begins to idly chat with you, and you can’t help but chat back. A cheeky grin from him, a gentle smile from you, a laugh here and there are some of the small exchanges. You get his phone number, and he gets yours. 

You realize he’s looking for solace, and so are you. Maybe he can find it; maybe you can find it, a strange solace, or rather, a solace in strangeness.


End file.
